Lost Touch Series

by Amy Tolnitch

  “Good. How long have you known Woodford had a spy in the castle?”

  “Not long. After Woodford attacked Hazelstone, I realized someone must have told him of Amice.” Cain fingered the pommel of his sword.

  The MacKeir grunted a Gaelic curse.

  Eight men rode behind them, made up equally of members of the garrison and the Highlanders. To a man, each wanted a piece of Henry Woodford.

  But Woodford was his. “We wait a few days at Styrling, then go to the cottage. He will be there. He will not take the chance that I will burn down the place where he spent so much time with Luce.”

  “Have you been there before?”

  Cain shook his head.

  “Bad bit of business, that,” MacKeir muttered.

  “Aye.” Cain did not say any more on the subject but urged his mount to a faster pace. Initially, his announced intention to destroy the cottage was solely to draw Woodford out, but Cain had decided to make it a fact. After he killed the skulking bastard.

  No man touched Amice and lived to tell of it.

  Amice walked into the stable. “Piers?” she called out.

  “Over here,” a muffled voice replied.

  Sidestepping a groom at work brushing another horse, Amice followed the sound of Piers’s voice to the last stall on the right.

  Piers looked up with a quick grin. “Give me a minute to finish, my lady.”

  Amice squatted down in the straw. “What is wrong with him?”

  “Leg splints. I am applying a warm poultice to ease the swelling.” He wrapped a linen bandage around the horse’s foreleg. “Easy, boy,” he crooned.

  Amice sniffed. “Camphor?”

  “Aye, and pennyroyal.” He stood and brushed straw off his tunic. “What may I do for you?”

  “I want to talk to you about Cain,” Amice blurted out.

  Piers raised a brow. “Oh?”

  “Halden, are you in here?” a feminine voice purred.

  Piers rolled his eyes. “Morganna.” He stepped out of the stall and crossed his arms. “Halden,” he called.

  As Amice stood, a big man with bushy black hair emerged from another stall. He gave Morganna a sly smile before turning to Piers. “My lord?”

  “Saddle Gabriel and Pleasance.” He took Amice’s arm. “The lady and I are going for a ride.”

  Morganna glared at them, and Piers shot her a grin.

  Amice hid her smile behind her hand. Morganna clearly had come in search of Halden for one thing and was very irked at being, at the least, delayed.

  “Like a bitch in heat,” Piers whispered, with a wink.

  While they waited, Morganna spoke to Halden in soft tones, touching him on the arm, the shoulder, the back as he tightened saddles on the horses.

  “Halden, hurry up,” Piers called. “For God’s sake, keep your hands off him for a minute, Morganna.”

  Amice had to turn around. She could not help but laugh at the look of outrage on Morganna’s face.

  “Do you wish to fetch a mantle, my lady?” Piers said over his shoulder.

  Finally, Amice reined in her mirth and turned back. “Nay, the day is fair.”

  Halden led Pleasance over, and assisted Amice into the saddle.

  “Enjoy your ride, Lady Amice,” Morganna said in a sugary voice.

  As Amice rode past her, she leaned down and said, “Enjoy yours, Morganna.”

  Piers’s raucous laughter followed them out of the stable. “Well put, my lady.” He shook his head and started laughing again. “Just wait until she finds out what Cain plans for her.”

  Hopefully, something far away, Amice thought. “What is that?”

  They rode toward the gatehouse and Piers gestured to a heavyset man standing by the portcullis. “See him?”

  “Yes.” Amice studied the man. He reminded her of a boar, big and meaty with a crudely sensual curve to his mouth.

  “Sir Edrick. Reportedly enough of a man to handle even Morganna. She will soon find herself wed to him and shipped off to Casswell Manor.”

  “Good.” At least Morganna would not have Cain.

  “Aye. We all tire of the wench’s antics.” Piers fell silent as they passed under the gatehouse and rode across the drawbridge.

  Amice drew in a deep breath and looked around the countryside. The ground spread out before them in low, rolling expanses of green, and the roar of the ocean flowed over the earth. A light mist danced across the grass. “Falcon’s Craig is a lovely place.”

  Piers tilted his head back and looked at the sky. “I cannot imagine living anywhere but by the sea.”

  “It is very exhilarating.”

  “What is Wareham like?”

  “Much different. Smaller. It is made of grey stone and has a main tower, a great hall, and four corner towers. Wareham is more refined, romantic, while Falcon’s Craig is more imposing, wild.”

  Piers sidled his mount close to hers. “What did you want to talk about?”

  Amice bit her lip. “Why is Cain so… controlled? So…”

  “Stubborn? Mule-headed? Determined to do what he perceives to be his duty at all costs?”

  “Aye.” Amice smiled at him. “All of those things.”

  Piers sighed. “Somewhere along the road of learning to do and be all the things necessary for the Earl of Hawksdown, Cain lost the ability to look at himself honestly. He has sacrificed much to hold Falcon’s Craig for the family.”

  “What was Luce like?”

  “Strange.”

  Amice remembered the dingy little chamber at Woodford’s castle and shivered. “How so?”

  “She looked like an angel but she was devious, sneaky. Half the time, no one knew where she was.”

  “Was Cain… happy with her?”

  Piers halted his horse and stared intently at her. “No.”

  Amice swallowed. “How did she die?”

  “She killed herself.”

  “What?” Amice froze in disbelief.

  “Accidentally. All she wanted to do was get rid of Woodford’s babe growing in her belly. She bled to death.”

  “Oh, my God.”

  “’Twas a dark time.” For a moment, Piers’s face looked savage.

  “Cain must have been devastated.” Now, it all made sense. He withheld himself because of the pain he endured from his wife’s betrayal. She knew Cain. Such a betrayal would wound him deeply.

  “Aye.” Piers took a deep breath and pointed at a copse of trees in the distance. “I am in the mood for a race, my lady. Shake off such grim talk. What say you?”

  “A race it is.”

  “Wager?” Piers wore a mischievous grin.

  Amice’s horse pranced beneath her. “If I win, you convince Cain to give me Villa Delphino. Now.”

  “Done.” Piers leaned close. “And if I win, you will tell Cain how you really feel about him.”

  Before Amice could stutter a reply, Piers kicked his horse and they dashed forward.

  Amice bent down low over the saddle, urging her palfrey on. “Come on, girl. Come on.”

  They thundered across the grass, nearly nose to nose. As they neared the trees, Amice pulled ahead. “Yes!” she cried, giddy with the thought of victory. “Almost there, girl.”

  And then her saddle slipped. Amice clutched at Pleasance’s mane, but it was too hard to hold on. For an agonizing moment, she felt her body slipping over the horse’s side, then she went hurtling to the ground and everything went black.

  Cain looked around the cottage in disgust. He had never bothered to come here after Luce’s confession and death. In the end, the true Luce had come out. Informing him in scathing tones that she could never love anyone but Woodford, could never be satisfied by him.

  The irony was that he really did not care.

  A big bed took up most of the space, piled with silk bedcovers and pillows. Lengths of silk were tied to each of the four posts and a box on the floor held a truly amazing collection of sex devices, not the least of which was a big, leather covered
item shaped like a man’s staff.

  He thought of taking the box back to Piers, but decided against it. He wanted no reminder of how base and deceptive Luce had been.

  With a last glance, Cain walked out of the cottage.

  Woodford and a band of fifteen men sat on horses in a circle around the cottage. The one guard who had accompanied Cain was securely bound.

  Cain suppressed a smile. How predictable Woodford was. He knew his own men and The MacKeir’s were well hidden in the trees.

  “Leave this place alone,” Woodford ordered.

  Cain leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms. “I see Jack gave you my message.”

  Woodford’s eyes glowed like burning obsidian. “You shall not burn the cottage.”

  “Oh? Luce is dead, Woodford. What difference does it make? You shall never meet her here again.”

  “Her memory is alive.” Woodford’s mount shifted back and forth, its bridle jangling.

  Cain laughed. “You think this place some kind of shrine? A shrine to what? Depravity? Betrayal?”

  “To love,” Woodford shouted. “Something you know nothing about.”

  “You sick bastard,” Cain swore. He picked up a torch.

  Woodford inched forward. “Put that down.”

  The MacKeir and the other men emerged from the trees, encircling Woodford and his men. Each held their swords at the ready, their expressions fierce. Each remembered Hazelstone.

  “I offer you a bargain, Woodford.”

  The other man’s gaze narrowed. “What?”

  “Fight me. Now. Just you and me.”

  Woodford leapt down from his horse. “To the death?”

  “Aye.” Cain glared at him. “To the death. With no interference from your men.”

  “Done.”

  Cain dropped the torch, stepped forward, and raised his sword and shield.

  Woodford rushed him with a roar and the battle began. He swung his sword down toward Cain’s neck, but Cain easily danced away.

  As they exchanged blows, the sounds of the forest faded away. Cain grunted as he smashed into Woodford’s shield. The man was smaller than Cain, but what he lacked in strength he made up for in sheer, mad rage.

  “You never deserved my Luce,” Woodford hissed.

  Cain swung his sword toward Woodford’s knees. “I never wanted her.”

  Woodford jumped over the blade and whirled back. “You are a liar.”

  “I only bed her once to consummate the marriage.”

  “She denied you.”

  Cain dodged a blow aimed at his head. “You did not know her as well as you thought you did. She begged me to take her.”

  “Liar!” Woodford thundered as he spun to the left, his sword flashing in the sunlight.

  “Pleaded with me to swive her over and over.” Cain laughed. “I told her I did not want another man’s leavings.”

  “Bastard,” Woodford rasped.

  Cain turned and brought his sword up with every bit of his strength. The blades crashed, and Cain forced his arm to remain steady, grimacing with the effort. Woodford’s sword arched into the air.

  “No, Woodford, you are the bastard,” Cain growled, just before he turned his wrist and sliced his blade through Woodford’s neck.

  Woodford’s head landed by his horse’s hooves, his body crumpling to the ground at Cain’s feet.

  Complete silence blanketed the clearing.

  Cain raised his head and stared at Woodford’s men, one by one. “’Tis your choice. Leave here with your lives, or die today with your lord.”

  They filed away without a word.

  The MacKeir rode up and dismounted. He clasped Cain’s hand with his. “Well done, my lord. Well done.”

  Cain gave him a grim smile. “Now, let us burn this damn place to cinders.” He went back into the cottage and lit the torch. The old wood sparked quickly, and as Cain and the other men moved back, the cottage went up in flames, the roof caving in with a great whoosh.

  The men cheered.

  Gradually, Amice became aware that someone was yelling her name. She blinked open her eyes and winced at the sunlight. She was lying flat on her back in the grass.

  What had happened?

  Piers’s face slowly came into focus, his gaze wide with obvious worry. “Amice?”

  “Piers.”

  “Are you all right? Can you move?”

  She wiggled her toes, then shifted her legs. “I think so.” Amice pushed herself into a sitting position. “My head hurts.”

  Piers ran his hands over the back of her head and frowned. “You have a good sized lump.”

  Her stomach gave a lurch. “I feel like I am going to be sick,” she said softly. Her head pounded and her stomach rolled.

  “Just stay still.” Piers stood. “There is a pool not far from here. I will fetch you some water.”

  “Thank you.” She swallowed and watched Piers gallop off. Pleasance nudged her shoulder, and Amice reached up to stroke the horse’s muzzle. The saddle lay in a heap next to her. Amice stared at it for a moment before she realized what she was seeing. “Oh, my God,” she whispered and put her hand to her mouth.

  Pleasance nudged her shoulder again as if to soothe her.

  Amice reached out a trembling hand to touch the leather. The girth had been sliced nearly through, the stress of riding causing it to break completely.

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw Piers return. He knelt down and handed her a skin of water. “Drink.”

  Before she did, she pointed at the girth. “’Twas deliberate.”

  Piers cursed low and lifted the girth to inspect it. “Morganna.”

  “Think you she would do such a thing?”

  “Who else could it be? Halden has no reason to harm you.”

  “I cannot believe Morganna hates me that much.”

  Piers shrugged. “She is avaricious.”

  Amice took a long drink of water. “Can you help me up?”

  “Aye.” To Amice’s surprise, he simply picked her up and put her on his horse. He gathered up the broken girth and saddle and secured it to his own. Then, he leapt up behind her and wrapped a surprisingly strong arm around her waist. “Pleasance will follow us,” he murmured, and set off.

  Amice fell asleep halfway to the castle.

  Cain faced Morganna and fought to control his anger long enough to hear her tale. His fingers itched to draw his sword and chop off her scheming head. He had just gone to see Amice and found her sleeping, pale as bone.

  “I did nothing,” Morganna insisted, with a mulish cast to her mouth.

  “The girth was cut,” Piers reminded her.

  She turned on him with a glare. “Anyone could have cut it.”

  “But you were there,” Cain said, fingering the pommel of his sword.

  Morganna took a step back. “So was Halden. It was he who saddled the mounts, not me.”

  “I have spoken to Halden. I do not believe he would endanger his life by tampering with Amice’s saddle. Why would he?”

  “Mayhap he mistakenly thought it would please me to see her injured.”

  Cain barked a mirthless laugh. “Do not flatter yourself. You are naught to Halden but a willing body to ease his lust upon.”

  Morganna looked mad enough to spit. “I did not cut the girth,” she gritted out.

  “Then who did?”

  “I do not know! Maybe your ghost did it. She has tried to harm Amice before.”

  “Has she?” Cain stalked forward. “Or has Muriel received aid? Aid from a living being.”

  Morganna’s face leached of color. “I did nothing.”

  Piers walked to her other side. “Where did you get the drug you gave Cain?”

  “I… from some old woman I met at the market in Neubiginge.”

  “What was it?”

  “I told Cain, I do not know. It was just supposed to… speed things up a bit.”

  Cain snarled. “You are a liar and a whore. And you shall be gone from Fa
lcon’s Craig this very day.”

  “What? But where can I go? This is my home,” she shrieked.

  “No longer.” Cain went to the door of his solar and opened it. “Come in, Edrick.”

  At the sight of Sir Edrick, Morganna’s mouth dropped open and she shot Cain a beseeching look.

  He ignored her. “You know Edrick, I believe,” he said smoothly.

  Morganna just shook her head.

  “I have decided he will make a fine husband for you. You will be married in the chapel immediately and leave for Casswell Manor this day.”

  “Nay,” she whispered, giving Edrick a fearful look. “You cannot give me to him. He is a brute.”

  Edrick moved to stand in front of Morganna. “I am not a cruel man.”

  “Nay,” Morganna choked.

  “But I will not allow my wife to swive another,” Edrick continued. “You will be most satisfied with me in that regard, I wager.” He slowly smiled.

  Cain thought Morganna might swoon at that, but she lifted her chin and met Edrick’s leer with a haughty look. “Cain, do not do this to me,” she pleaded.

  “Either way, you are gone. Take Edrick and you will have a place to live, a man to take care of you.” Cain shrugged. “Refuse and you will be cast out with nothing.”

  Tears sparkled in Morganna’s eyes, but Cain felt no remorse. She tried to kill Amice. He would just as soon see her put to death. “Make your decision, Morganna. Now.”

  She gazed at Edrick in horror, tears welling in her eyes.

  Edrick looked like a man about to enjoy a fine sweetmeat.

  “Well?” Cain asked.

  “I… I will marry him.”

  Edrick’s smile widened and he took hold of Morganna’s arm. “Do not worry. Obey me and all will be fine.”

  Morganna let herself be led away.

  Piers clapped Cain on the back. “’Bout time we rid ourselves of the wench. She was upsetting my horses, for God’s sake.”

  Cain raised a brow. “I am more concerned about her attempts to harm Amice.”

  “Yes, I imagine you are.”

  “Do you think Morganna cut the girth?”

  Piers nodded. “Had to be her. Nobody else around.”